R is for Retribution
by Avirra
Summary: The daily job of a firefighter has many risks, but off-duty time proves even more hazardous as a man returns with a grudge against certain members of A-shift.  Sequel of sorts to 'Divided We Fall'.
1. Chapter 1

**R is for Retribution**

**Part I**

It was just after eight am in the morning at Station 51. As they changed back into their street clothes at the end of another rotation, the men of A Shift chatted among themselves before heading out starting their days off. Their last shift had been busy enough to pass quickly, but not so busy as to have been exhausting.

"So guys - who has plans for the next couple of days?"

Johnny tugged on his shoes as he spoke up to answer Marco.

"Camping with Roy and his family. We made plans for it last Christmas. Weather's gotten warm enough and we're supposed to have clear skies as well."

"And Johnny's answer covers me as well."

"Sounds good. How about you, Mike?"

"Getting together with an old friend from my high school days."

"Hey, Chet? You're taking off on vacation next rotation still, right?"

"True enough, Marco, old pal. I'll be so tired by the time I come back, I'll be glad to see my cot."

"Why will you be so tired? String of dates lined up?"

"Man, don't I wish. My mom found out I had some time coming and I think she has nearly every second planned out for me. I'd really been hoping to get away and at least spend a day or two fishing, but it looks like I'll be painting my mom's house - inside and out - the entire time."

"Ouch. Hey, you find you can use an extra pair of hands, amigo, give me a call."

"I wouldn't put a friend through what I'm about to go through, Marco, but thanks for the offer, pal. That reminds me. Sam Davis is going to be filling in for me. Guess I should warn you guys that he's a bit of a character."

"If he's replacing you, he'd have to be."

"Don't strain yourself trying to make jokes, Gage. And don't say I didn't warn you. Because for once? I'm being serious here."

Roy shot a look over to Chet and then glanced back to Johnny, who was pretty much blowing off Chet's warnings. For his part, Roy wasn't so sure. Chet really did look like he'd meant what he was saying. _'Oh well, It will only be for one rotation. How bad could this Davis guy be?' _

As they all went their separate ways, Chet stopped first to fill his gas tank, grumbling at the price. Sixty-seven cents a gallon? How did these people expect a guy to be able to make his bills and keep his tank full with these prices? But there was no choice but to fill the tank. He knew that one thing he was bound to be doing was making multiple trips back and forth to the paint store as his mother changed her mind. He loved her dearly, but things had to be done precisely 'her way' and generally that meant redoing things several times while she figured out what 'her way' was.

Next stop was the dry cleaners where he dropped off his uniforms followed by a quick stop at the nearby diner where he got their breakfast special to go. It was a sort of potato/ham/scrambled eggs thing with salsa dumped on the top. Looked messy, but tasted great.

Pulling up at his place, he yawned. Eat the take-out, take a long hot shower, grab a short nap, then over to Mom's house by mid-afternoon to begin work. His thoughts were wandering over all of that as he was reaching for the door knob. Just before he took hold, it suddenly registered on his tired brain that his door was already partially open.

Before Chet could react any further, the door jerked open a little farther and he found himself facing a gun. He really counldn't focus past the weapon to look at the face of the man behind it, but he recognized the voice without any visual aids. A cold feeling formed in the pit of his stomach.

"Well hello, Kelly. Remember me? Of course you do. Don't just stand in the door. Come in. And unless you really want to get your neighbors involved, don't kick up a fuss."

Reflexively, Chet cast a quick glance over his shoulder, thankful that it was past time for the school bus. Part of him wanted to make a break for it, but he could hear the lady that was always working out in her garden during the early morning hours. Her toddler was normally right by her side. He couldn't put them at risk. Swallowing hard, Chet took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"Good boy. Put that box down and close the door behind you."

Not seeing any options, Chet laid the take-out box on the little table where he tended to drop his mail and then turned to close the door. As he started to turn back around, he caught sight of something being swung toward his head, but he didn't have enough manuevering room to avoid it. He felt the impact and that was the last he knew for awhile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II **

Chet began waking to a pounding in his head. After a moment or two of waking a bit more, he realized that while his head was very sore, the pounding was coming from his front door. And for reasons he couldn't quite recall, he was on the floor, lying on his stomach.

His first reaction was to try and press his hands against his throbbing head and it increased his confusion when he couldn't manage that. Before he could gather his thoughts to say or do anything, the touch of cold metal against his neck stopped everything as he registered the danger. Then he heard his mother's voice.

"Chester Kelly! You open this door up right now! You were supposed to have been over at my house two hours ago!"

Cringing, Chet gave a short prayer that his mother didn't have her key to his place with her. His brain was still fogged enough that he wasn't totally sure what was happening, but he was **very** sure that he didn't want his mother in the middle of it. Especially now that the man was breathing heavily near Chet's ear - the strong, sour smell of whiskey coming from him turned Chet's already queasy stomach as the man whispered roughly to him.

"Not a sound, Kelly. I don't want to bring her into this unless you make me."

Then the pieces fell a little more into place. He'd come home to find a gun pointed at him by one of the people that he could have happily gone a lifetime without running into again. Captain Jackson Poole.

_'Great. Bad enough to have a gun pointed at me, but a gun being held by a drunk who didn't like me when he was sober?'_ His head was clear enough now that he could figure out why his hands weren't cooperating. They were tied behind him. What was Poole up to?

Mrs. Kelly's tone had gone from annoyed to concerned, then the door rattled as she tried the knob. Her trying to rattle it open a second time probably was a sign that she didn't have her key with her. Chet strained his ears as his mother finally moved away from the door. A couple of minutes later, he let out the breath he'd been holding when he heard her car start up. Much as he didn't want to be left alone with Poole, at least with her leaving, he wouldn't have to worry about his mom getting hurt.

Poole apparently heard the same thing because the gun was pulled away and he began speaking at normal levels.

"Very good, Kelly. Y'know if you'd obeyed orders that well before, you wouldn't be in this predicament. Now we just need DeSoto."

Squirming as he tried to pull his hands free, Chet tried to look over his shoulder at Poole. If the man's eyes were any indication, the drinking had been going on for awhile. The formerly immaculate man didn't look or smell like he'd bathed recently either.

"Listen, I don't know what kind of sick game this is that you're playing, but leave Roy out of it. He's got a wife and kids."

An unseen hand grabbed a fistful of Chet's hair and knocked his head into the floor hard enough that his vision grayed.

"Shut up, Kelly. If DeSoto wanted to be left out of this, he shouldn't have opened his big mouth and gotten me blackballed as a captain all up the west coast."

That didn't sound like anything Roy would have set out to do - though Chet could certainly see where word might have gotten around without any help at all from Roy. He just had to try to persuade the drunk former Captain of it.

"Plenty of people knew about what went on. Even the folks at Rampart. I'd be willing to be it wasn't Roy."

His head hit the floor harder that time.

"Your back-stabbing bunch always covers for each other, eh Kelly? So happens I know it was a paramedic. Now, where's DeSoto? Been by his place already and he wasn't there."

Almost as soon as Poole said that, Chet remember the talk in the locker room. _'The camping trip with Gage.' _He avoided answering Pools's question though.

"How would I know? I'm single - you think I hang out with the married guys on our days off?"

He was expecting the next blow, but that didn't soften it any. He heard Poole's voice coming as if from a distance.

"Well, we'll just have to wait for him to come back then. Let's see what you've got to eat and drink around here."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

When A-shift came back on duty for the start of their next rotation, one of the first one's there was Chet's fill-in. He introduced himself to everyone as they showed up – he tended to pump hands like he was trying to get water out of an old-fashioned well and Roy rated his voice at a '6' on the grating scale. But what really set off the warnings for Roy was when Sam referred to Chet as _'kind of a stick in the mud'_.

Before mid-shift, pranks abounded that Roy hadn't experienced since Chris got out of first grade. The tops of pepper and salt shakers being loosened brought out Captain's Stanley's first decree.

"Don't even bother to act innocent, Davis. I don't know how busy the station is that you're usually at, but we often have very limited windows in which we can grab a bite to eat. Mess with anything to do with food around here again and you'll be lucky to see the outside of the latrines outside of calls."

"Yes, Captain."

Even with that, Roy was convinced by the end of the shift that the man had a relative that worked in the whoopie cushion and fake vomit factory. As they changed to go home, Johnny let out a sigh.

"Chet did try to warn us about Davis, didn't he?"

"That he did, partner. That he did"

"He's back next rotation, right?"

"Right. Now all we have to do is keep from strangling his replacement until then."

Johnny's head banged lightly against his locker.

"What kind of an alternative universe am I in? I'm counting the days until Chet's back."

Their next shift began with all of the handles to their lockers being coated in petroleum jelly. Nobody was amused outside of Davis. It seemed to be a sign of things to come as the first two call outs for the squad turned out to be false alarms. That didn't mean that they didn't still have to respond and check for a reasonable amount of time to ensure that there really wasn't a victim.

The next call was an all-station call and very real as were the next three squad calls after that. It was only about an hour until shift change when a squad call came in that was near the edge of their territory. Captain Stanley handed them their slip and headed back toward his office. The phone was ringing by the time he reached the door.

"Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking."

A female voice came over the line.

"I know casual calls are frowned on, but could you please have Chester Kelly call his mother?"

"Mrs. Kelly? I'm sorry, ma'am, but your son's not here today."

He hesitated to tell her that he was on vacation. Maybe it was something he hadn't wanted her to know. Hank felt a little bad though at the sound of worry in her voice.

"I see. If you hear from him, please ask him to call as soon as he can?"

"I will, Mrs. Kelly."

Frowning, he went back out and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. Both Marco and Mike picked up on his mood.

"Bad news, Captain?"

"No - just an odd phone call. Chet's mother is looking for him."

The shocked reaction of his two men to that statement got Hank's attention and he began to get a bad feeling.

"Talk to me, fellows."

Marco was the one to take the lead.

"Chet is supposed to be at his mother's house painting it for her. Said it would probably take up his entire time off. I even offered to lend a hand with it, but he said he didn't want to put me through it."

Mike nodded his agreement.

"He'd said he'd hoped to get a little fishing time in, but that it looked like he'd be at her place working the whole time."

"Holy cats - no wonder she sounded worried."

"Something must've happened, Cap. Chet would never skip out on his mom like that. And even if he did change his mind, he sure wouldn't let her sit around worrying about him."

As the men back at the Station began to discuss what they needed to do next, the squad arrived at the place that they'd been given the address to. It was in a cul-de-sac and the yard was a bit overgrown. Johnny just grimaced as he looked over the place.

"Looks like a spot they used as a backdrop in one of Chet's favorite horror movies. Heck, that car over there even looks a bit like Chet's."

Roy glanced over and nodded.

"Does, doesn't it? Of course, we don't know where Chet's mother lives, so maybe she lives around here?"

"Doesn't really look like anybody lives around here. Might be another false alarm."

"Or a wrong address. I doubt this place even has a working phone."

"I'll go knock and, if no-one answers, I'll see if I can get a look inside the place, Roy. Why don't you call dispatch back and see if they can verify we have the right address? If nothing else, we're going to need a patrol car out here. We can't just break in."

"Good idea."

Roy sat his helmet down on the seat and reached for the radio as Johnny headed for the door.

"Squad 51 to Dispatch. Over."

"Go ahead, 51."

"Please verify the address of the current run."

Dispatch confirmed that they were at the right location and Roy gave Johnny a thumbs up just before Johnny signalled him that he was going to go around and see if there was a back door. Roy decided he should go ahead and request a unit from the sherrif's department.

"Dispatch, we have -"

Roy caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye just before something connected with the back of his head. He dropped hard to the packed dirt, mike still clutched in his hand.

"Squad 51, we lost your last transmission. Please repeat."

The mike was pried out of Roy's hand roughly, then he heard someone speak..

"We have located the victim. 51 out."

"10-4, 51."

Johnny found the back door was also locked. He couldn't really see through the grime on the windows to get a decent view inside either. Squealing tires got his attention and he came back around to the front. The car that had been parked across the way was missing. With a sinking feeling, two other things registered. He didn't see Roy anywhere and the door to the squad where Roy had been was still standing open. Then he saw some drops of fresh blood in the dirt by the squad. Trying to be careful not to step on them, Johnny grabbed the mike.

"Squad 51 to Dispatch. We - have a situation here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV**

Shift change came before Johnny and Roy returned, but it was hardly the first time that a call had kept them out past shift change. None of the rest of the regular A-Shift crew wasted any time in leaving - they had decided that they were going to go together to Chet's home and see if they could figure out what was going on with their friend. Davis wasn't at all sure why the three were all worked up over Chet, shrugged and headed home.

The call to the Station to inform Captain Stanley about his missing paramedic arrived about seven minutes too late to catch them, but the C-Shift captain had been told about the worries regarding Kelly. Two men possibly missing off of the same shift sounded fishy, so he reported Captain Stanley's concerns about his lineman back up the chain.

Roy woke having trouble breathing which wasn't helping his head at all. All he knew at first was that he was in some sort of hot, tight space. It took more concentration than it should have for him to figure out he must be in the trunk of a car. He tried to calm his breathing down. It was already too stuffy in the trunk as it was.

What had happened? He had been talking to Dispatch, but his mind wasn't connecting the dots from that last memory to where he was now. Roy didn't even have any clues as to how much time had passed. He had his watch but he wasn't sure if it was the dim light of the ache in his head that was keeping his eyes from focusing enough to make out where the hands were.

The vibrations and occasional jolt were enough to tell him that the car was in motion. After one particularly hard jolt, Roy had to squirm to his side before the nausea overtook him. The last thing he wanted to do was to aspirate on his own vomit. He also didn't care for the fact that if he was left where he was, the day wouldn't have to get a lot hotter for heat exhaustion to set in.

There was a short stop somewhere. From the muffled sounds he could make out, he was in some sort of parking lot. He closed his eyes. There was a chance that whoever had him would eventually open the trunk. No matter what, he needed to be as ready as he could to make a break for it. Almost anything seemed preferable to dying in the dark trunk of a car.

Johnny was giving the details, such as he knew, to Vince while a team was looking over the squad itself. Vince had to cool Johnny down when one of the detectives made a remark that maybe Roy had just left on his own.

"Easy - he was just making a joke. A bad one."

"Yeah? Well, let his partner go missing and see how funny he thinks it is."

Vince gave Johnny a pat while shooting the offending detective a dirty look.

"We'll find him, John. Know of anyone with a grudge against Roy? Your string of false alarms today sure make it seem like someone was out to get you two off by yourselves. Especially considering Roy disappearing while you were around back checking out the call. By the way, according to records, this place has been condemned for nearly a year."

"Man - I told Roy it didn't look like anyone had been here for awhile. But, you know, call comes in, we have to check it out. And as far as grudges go? Nobody that comes to mind, Vince. I mean, you know Roy. He can get along with almost anybody."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. Roy's generally Mister Mellow."

The detectives finished their search and released the squad. Discouraged, Johnny climbed into the driver's seat, starting it up and calling in that he was heading back to station.

The car Roy was an unwilling passenger in had started up again, The heat was steadily building and the feeling of suffocation was getting worse. He knew he had to keep his wits, but that was getting harder as well. He didn't realize when it had happened, but he knew he'd blacked out for awhile when the sudden lurching to a stop brought him back around. He heard someone walking away from the car and it was hard for Roy to keep from panicking. It was getting harder to stay alert, but he had the real fear that if he blacked out again, it might be for the last time.

Roy had no way of knowing it, but the first stop had been to a liquor store and the second at Chet's place.

Poole let himself back inside, taking a drink straight from one of the bottles he'd purchased. Nice of Kelly to have 'donated' the funds for that. As he moved over to where he'd left Kelly and nudged him with a foot, he didn't get much in the way of a response beyond a moan. Poole reflected that Kelly didn't look too good, but since he'd look far worse soon that it really didn't matter.

Grabbing a blanket off of Chet's bed, he wrapped it roughly around the semi-conscious man before hauling him up and nearly dropping him in the process. He blamed Kelly's weight more than the alcohol in his system for his unsteady progress to the door.

"You could stand to lose a few, Kelly. I don't guess ol' DeSoto will mind sharing the trunk with you though. Shame I can't stuff your whole back-biting crew in there."

Coordination was not in Poole's favor by this point. He had to put Chet down on the ground to reach into his pocket for the key to open up the trunk. Poole didn't notice that coming down the street just then was the sheriff's department car containing Vince. Beverly, Chet's gardening neighbor with the toddler, had gotten concerned when she'd seen an obviously drunk man that she didn't recognize getting out of her neighbor's car and called to report the suspicious activity.

The car containing Hank, Mike and Marco was in the process of turning down that same street. Things were about to get chaotic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part V**

The sound of a key going into the lock made Roy's heartbeat speed up. This was it - now or never. His body felt heavy and clumsy, but when the lid opened and the sweet smell of fresh air hit him, Roy rallied and made a forceful, if not graceful, exit as he fell heavily on the ground.

The heat, sweat and vomit had combined in an unpleasant way in the trunk. Cursing as he backed away from the rancid smell, Poole pulled his gun back out and pointed it at Roy. Vince had parked, but the trunk lid was keeping him and Poole from seeing one another as the other car holding three other members of A-Shift pulled up from the other direction.

On the ground nearby, the outside air had also partially revived Chet, not that he could do much. But even semi-conscious, he rolled over automatically to try and get the blanket off of him. It was just too hot laying in the sun to be under a blanket.

Vince grabbed for his radio the second he saw that there was a person wrapped in that blanket, calling for both back-up and medical assistance.

Johnny was still frowning to himself as he tried to puzzle out why anyone would go so far as to call in false alarms to get to Roy when the call came over the radio.

_"Squad 110. Man down. See Deputy Howard on the scene."_

As the Dispatch gave out the address, Johnny realized that he was only a few blocks away.

"Dispatch, this is Squad 51. I am within six blocks of the scene."

_"10-4, 51. Squad 110, continue to the scene. We have a report of possible multiple victims."_

Back at his car, Hank motioned for both Mike and Marco to stay as he saw Vince signal them. None of them could get a clear view of what was going on, but they heard the drunken angry voice yell.

"DeSoto! Get back in there!"

The voice didn't click with Hank, but hearing Roy's name did and he automatically looked for the squad even though he knew he'd have spotted it had it been there. What the hell had happened on that run? And where was Johnny?

Roy was shivering even in the heat and knew that his body was going into shock. He couldn't place the voice behind him, but he felt the gun nudge him. Closing his eyes and mentally apologizing to Joanne, Roy spoke. His mouth was dry and his throat was raw from retching.

"Go ahead and shoot. I'm not going back in there."

"Fine. You don't mind me shooting you, then what about if I shoot him?"

"Him?"

It took some effort for Roy to lift his head and focus, but he managed and it felt like a kick in his stomach.

"Chet? My God - what did you do to Chet?"

Squad 51 pulled onto the street and the flash of red in the corner of his eye finally got Poole's attention and he suddenly noticed that he had an audience - including the sheriff's car.

"Back off or I swear I'll shoot both of them!"

Johnny parked just in time to hear that last and turned in shock as he saw not only Vince, but Cap, Marco and Mike as well. The shock only deepened when the address fully registered - they were all outside of Chet's home. Then the familar blue of their uniform shirt caught Johnny's eye and he called out before he even knew he was going to do it.

"Roy!"

Poole still had his gun on Roy as he took in the scene. Vince didn't like the way that the man began smiling after hearing Johnny's yell.

"You know, DeSoto, this isn't what I had planned, but I think this will work pretty well. Let the rest of your bunch have to watch when I leave with the pair of you. Now - get Kelly up into the front of the car before I decide to just shoot him and leave him there."

It was torture for the others to watch Roy struggling to move Chet under the threat of the gun. The lack of response from Chet to all of the movement also had them highly worried about his condition. It had taken some time due to the changes in the man's appearance, but they all knew now that the man holding the gun was Poole.

Marco spoke softly to the others.

"He's gone loco. How does he expect to get away with this?"

Mike's eyes were fixed on the scene and he didn't like the turn his thoughts had taken, but he voiced them any way.

"I don't think he does. I think he plans to take them with him."


	6. Chapter 6

**Part VI**

Once Roy had managed to maneuver Chet into the center of the front seat, he pulled back out, dropped to his knees and heaved what little remained in his stomach onto the ground. Poole gave him a disgusted look as he slid into the driver's seat, pressing his gun into Kelly's side.

Scowling, Poole considered the quandary he had now. The deputy was a problem. If he lowered the gun to do anything else, the deputy was bound to notice and take action. DeSoto had already shown he rather be shot than go back into the trunk and besides, if he went to the rear to force DeSoto into the trunk, he'd be an open target for the deputy. He could just order DeSoto to sit on the other end of the front seat, but he didn't trust the paramedic not to try something if he left him free.

Fishing around with his freehand, he found one of the bottles he'd left in the car then pinned it with his legs to open it. Two long gulps later, Poole looked back out at DeSoto, then glanced over to the squad as a nasty smile formed again.

"Just stay where you are, DeSoto. We'll have your ol' buddy Gage come over and help you back into the trunk."

More alert than he was letting on that he was, Chet was biding his time. He was still tied and very weak so he knew he might have only one chance. Chet had already accepted he might not make it, but if he could manage to help Roy get away, he was going to.

"Gage! Get over here! You can give your partner a hand one last time."

Vince was liking this situation less with every passing second. But as little as he liked the thought of Johnny adding to the hostage count, he liked the thought of a gun battle in a residential area even less. Reluctantly, he gave Johnny a nod. Hank didn't like this any better than Vince did, but he also gave his junior paramedic a nod.

Approaching the car slowly, Johnny's eyes were more focused on Roy than on Poole. Roy's eyes rose to meet his and Johnny didn't need his instruments to know that his partner needed a hospital and so did Chet. But first, he needed to get them away from Poole. Somehow.

Poole's voice interrupted his thoughts when he started the car's engine before speaking.

"I've got the gun on Kelly. I'll use it if you don't cooperate. Get DeSoto up and put him back in the trunk where he belongs."

Roy's breath caught. He didn't want to go back in there, but he couldn't ask Johnny to choose between him and Chet. Still, his voice was shaky when he spoke.

"It's okay, Johnny. Do it."

Swallowing, Johnny reached out to take hold of Roy's arm. The heat already radiating from his partner was a warning sign of heat exhaustion. He couldn't put Roy in the trunk - closing the lid on him would be the same as closing the lid on his coffin. But he helped Roy up as gently as he could, stalling for time while his brain tried to think of a way out of this for all of them.

Poole rather enjoyed the look that had formed on Gage's face and laughed before lifting up his bottle for another swig. That was the moment Chet had been waiting for.

With all the force he could manage, Chet threw himself sideways into Poole. The hit wasn't really all that forceful, but it was enough to jostle Poole. The raised bottle slipped from his grip and splashed all over as Poole reflexively went with both hands to try to steady it without putting down the gun. As he fumbled with the whiskey, the gun went off. Johnny almost lost his grip on Roy at the male scream following the shot.

The next voice Johnny heard was weak, but one he knew.

"John - he dropped it."

With that, Johnny lowered Roy down quickly and started back to the driver's side door. Poole was howling with pain, holding his bleeding leg, but as soon as his bleary eyes saw Johnny coming, he gave Chet a hard shove away from him, put the car in gear and hit the gas.

"Look out!"

At Johnny's yell, Mike, Marco and Hank all scattered even as another sheriff's car with the backup Vince had called for came into view. The sight of that further enraged Poole - he took out a mailbox across the street and then jerked the wheel around as he hit the gas again. He lost control as he bounced off the curb, clipping the incoming sheriff's vehicle before slamming into a tree hard enough to crack the radiator.

"Vince! Guys! I need help!"

Hank ran over and took Roy from Johnny, then found a place in the shade to settle down with him. Johnny ran for what was left of Chet's car - he and Marco worked on trying to get Chet out. Unable to brace himself or hold onto anything, Chet's head had hit the door to the glove box on his way to the floor. While Johnny would have preferred getting a neck brace onto Chet, there simply wasn't room to maneuver until they got him out of the car.

Mike aided Vince with Poole, who despite the leg wound and the crash, was still belligerent. Vince spotted the gun and quickly secured it before Poole could get his hands on it again.

The other squad was arriving on the scene now. Johnny was more than happy to let the other squad see to Poole's wound so that he could concentrate on Chet. Without being asked, Mike and Marco ran back to Squad 51 and were pulling out the drug box and biophone while Johnny carried Chet over to where Hank was watching over Roy. Pulled out his pocket knife, Johnny sliced through the rope and freed Chet's wrists, frowning as he took note of the rope burns and lacerations there before starting to evaluate the rest of the condition his Irish teammate was in.

Mike had already opened up the biophone and called up Rampart.

"Rampart, this is 51, how do you read?"

Dixie's voice came back over the set.

"51, we read you fine. What do you have?"

"We have two male victims, both approximately thirty-three."

Johnny began calling out vitals and Mike relayed them over in a voice that was far steadier than he felt inside. For Johnny's part, he did his best to block out of the front of his mind that is was his friends that he was working on. The faster he could get them ready for transport to Rampart, the happier he'd be.

When the ambulance arrived, the determination was made that Poole could make the trip in the back of Vince's squad car. Johnny would ride in with Chet and Roy, Hank would bring Marco and Mike and the second paramedic of Squad 110 agreed to drive Squad 51 back home. Everything was quickly cleared with Dispatch and the ambulance was on it's way.

Both men looked bad in their own way, but now that Roy had an IV in him to help restore fluids and hopefully bring down his temperature, Johnny concentrated mostly on Chet. The blood from his head wound was starting to soak through the gauze.

"Hey, buddy. Come on. Talk to me, Chet."

There was a noise and it took Johnny a minute to realize that Chet was trying to laugh. Then he spoke hoarsely.

"Must look bad - being nice."

He didn't know whether to be pleased because Chet was making a joke or aggravated. All things considered, Johnny went for pleased and gave Chet a light poke.

"I'm always nice, bucko. Seriously though, you seem pretty weak, Chester. When's the last time you ate something?"

Frowning, Johnny gave Chet another light poke.

"Come on, Chester B. Try and stay awake for me. We'll be at Rampart before much longer. When did you eat last?"

"Dunno. Last shift, I guess?"

Johnny just stared at Chet for a minute then grabbed the biophone again.

"Rampart, this is 51."

"Go ahead, 51. Are you still in transit?"

"Affirmative, Rampart, but I have additional information on victim one. He has apparently not had any food intake for about four days."

Dixie didn't transmit it over the line, but she practically growled as she motioned Dr. Early over. He frowned at the new information, then spoke back to Johnny.

"51, do you have any IVs with glucose available?"

"10-4, Rampart."

"Start a second IV with ringer's lactate, 5% glucose. What is your ETA?"

Johnny called the question up to the driver, then answered.

"ETA approximately ten minutes. Starting second IV with ringer's lactate, 5% glucose."

"10-4 - keep a close eye on the vitals and alert us to any changes."

"Affirmative, Rampart. 51 out."

Looking over to Dixie who looked ready to punch someone out, Joe sighed. One of the hardest parts of the job was seeing what someone would willingly do to another human being.

"Dix, I'm going to go consult with Kel on this one. I'll be back with him before the ambulance arrives.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part VII**

Johnny couldn't remember many times that he'd ever been happier to arrive at Rampart. Despite being covered with a blanket, Roy's shivering had gotten worse and he wasn't really responding. Plus trying to keep Chet alert was proving to be a losing battle. Thankfully, as soon as the ambulance doors were open, Dixie was there giving orders.

"Roy goes to treatment one and Chet to treatment two. Johnny, you go with Roy to give Kel a hand - I'll go with Chet and Joe."

It was a relief to be told which way to go because, for once, Johnny had been torn. Dixie gave a glance to Joe as they both assisted in getting Chet onto the examination table. She frowned as she noted that feeding hadn't been the only thing neglected with the young fireman. Getting a warm cloth, Dixie gently cleaned the dried blood from around Chet's nose. Somewhere during his ordeal, he'd obviously taken a couple of hard blows to his face.

"I'll see about getting the rest of him cleaned up some while you start examining him."

"Right, but I think I'll give you a hand with those clothes first. I don't know that any of this is going to be salvageable though."

Between the two of them, they made short work out of stripping Chet and depositing the clothes into a bag. As Dixie began to wash him off, she saw his right eye openly slightly. The left one was swollen shut. He seemed to be making the effort to smile and Dixie reached to touch his face lightly, smiling in return.

"Well, hello there, Mister Kelly. Nice to see you with us."

Joe was carefully removing the bloody gauze from Chet's forehead. He gave Chet a sympathetic look as well.

"Looks like you've had a rough couple of days."

Chet stayed still, but winced as the gauze came free. His voice came out raspy.

"Worst. Vacation. Ever. Even my mom is mad at me."

Dixie abandoned washing for a moment, bringing a straw to Chet's dry lips.

"Small sips so that your stomach doesn't rebel. Wet your mouth."

He followed the head nurse's instructions to the letter even though he really wanted to drain the glass dry.

"Thanks, Dixie. Sorry about - you know."

"Stop that right now. I may not know the full story, but I know enough to know you haven't a thing to be ashamed of yourself. And I'm sure that your mother will feel the same as soon as she knows what happened."

Dr. Early put a hand on Chet's shoulder to get his attention.

"You're going to need a couple of stitches in your forehead. I'll numb it up and get that out of the way in a minute. Can you tell me where else hurts?"

His tongue briefly ran over his lower lip as Chet thought.

"Nose. Back of my head is still pretty tender too. That's the first place he hit. Not sure what with. Stomach aches too."

"I'm pretty sure the stomach is just because it's grouchy about the lack of food. As for the nose, pretty sure it may be broken. Not the first time, is it?"

"Naw. More like the third or fourth. Happened the first time when I was five. Older brother."

Joe just gave a slight chuckle at the cause of the first break, then frowned at what he felt under the hair at the back of the head.

"Dix? Help me get him onto his side for a minute so that I can get a good look back here."

As Dr. Early gently probed, Chet couldn't help flinching.

"Sorry, but I think we'll have to shave some of the hair back here. You've got a fairly long laceration. Looks infected from what I can see. We'll need to get it cleaned out and stitched up as well. We need some x-rays as well."

"Whatever you have to do, Doc. Hey – is Roy alright?"

"Roy's in the treatment room next door. Let's worry about you first and we'll check in on Roy after, alright?"

Chet hesitated before speaking again.

"I'd feel a lot better if I could know something. Guy was pretty rough with me, but he was a lot madder at Roy than he was at me."

"Tell you what then. Settle down and let Dixie finish up what she's doing and when they come in to take your x-rays, I'll pop over and get a report on Roy."

"I'd appreciate that."

He was still feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to talk Poole into leaving Roy alone.

In the other treatment room, Johnny had to move quickly to help Dr. Brackett with Roy when his partner started to thrash out suddenly.

"Roy! Easy, pal, easy."

Johnny could feel the tremors in Roy's body. The way the usually steady blue eyes seemed to be staring at something only Roy could see was kind of creeping him out as well.

"I can't go back in there."

"I'm not going to put you there, pally. Everything's going to be alright. We're at Rampart."

Eyes narrowing, Dr. Brackett looked from Roy to Johnny.

"Roy, it's Dr. Brackett. Can you tell me what happened? What do you remember?"

It took a couple of minutes for Roy to stop hyperventilating and it was obvious he was still disoriented.

"Johnny and I had a call. Old place, looked abandoned at the end of a cul-de-sac. Johnny went to check the door while I verified the address. We had the right place, so I was about to request a deputy met us an - I don't really know what happened then. I woke up with my head hurting and I had to twist around because I was getting really nau -"

Stopping in mid-word, Roy took in a sharp breath.

"Is Johnny alright?"

It bothered Johnny that he'd been speaking to Roy just a couple of minutes before and Roy had apparently already forgotten all about it.

"I'm right here, Roy. I'm fine, pal."

"Chet?"

"Chet's in another treatment room."

"I heard a shot?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you did. But I didn't get hit and Chet didn't get hit. Dr. Early's with him."

"I feel like I should have known who that guy was."

"Just settle down for now and let the doctor get a look at your head. We'll worry about the rest of it after you're patched up, okay?"

They almost had Roy calm enough for Dr. Brackett to continue when a raised voice from the hall outside had his heart racing again. Johnny met Dr. Brackett's eyes and mouthed 'that's the guy'. Then the voice was closer and clearer.

"DeSoto! Kelly! I know you're here!"

Dixie came out of treatment room two, anger plainly visible.

"Put him into four. Dr. Morton? That one is all yours."


	8. Chapter 8

**Part VIII**

Roy wasn't the only one that needed calming down after Poole's voice rang out. As she hurried back over to Chet's side, Dixie was already starting to speaking soothingly to her patient - who was coming far too close to hyperventilating for Dr. Early's liking.

"It's alright. He wants to come in here, he's going to have to go through me. And believe me, he'd regret the attempt."

"We've both seen Dixie in action, Kelly - you know he wouldn't stand a chance."

Dixie gave Joe a light swat for that, but it worked on getting Chet to chuckle and catch his breath.

The portable x-ray machine arrived just then and Dixie gave Chet's hand a squeeze.

"I'll be just outside. I know it isn't easy, but try to relax."

As promised, Joe headed over to treatment one to check on Roy. Still fuming, Dixie went to treatment room four to check in with Dr. Morton. When Morton heard Dixie at the door, he came out to speak with her.

"What shape is he in, Mike?"

"Drunk, for one thing. Managed to shoot himself in the leg for another. Doesn't seem to have hit anything vital, but I'll get a better idea once I get a set of x-rays. So that's the infamous Captain Poole? I wonder what happened with him? He's really hot against Roy, of all people."

"Chet told us that he was really angry with Roy, but not why. I don't even know if he knows, but I think I'll ask. Is the deputy in with him?"

"Sure is. I'm still not sure the guy is going to authorize treatment. Apparently, we're part of the conspiracy. Whatever that is."

"Might be something that only makes sense after a lot of drinks, Mike. Good luck in there."

"Thanks, I need it. Nothing like being yelled at by a man with breath that would stun a vulture."

Roy was next in line for the x-ray machine, so Johnny went into treatment room two to check in on Chet when he had to leave Roy's room.

Johnny cast about for something to talk about that wasn't what Chet had been going through, then he gave Chet a lop-sided grin.

"Man, you weren't kidding about Sam Davis, were you? That guy is making us nuts with the whoopee cushions and the fake vomit."

"Wow. Ol' Sam is going for more sophisticated humor these days, huh?"

Johnny's mouth dropped open.

"You mean he's done worse?"

A light snort came from Chet - which hurt some, but not as bad as a laugh would have.

"You're talking to a guy that had fake dog poop put in his shoes and a battery hooked up to his locker. Man - at least half the time when I tried to open my locker, I'd get shocked when I went to get to my uniform.. Nailed me with an ink balloon once too and back in my boot days, a new uniform was an expense I didn't need."

"Whoa - he actually did stuff that wrecked your uniform?"

"Yep. I was averaging at least one new shirt a rotation until the Captain got wind of it and made him at least cut out the stuff that was costing me money. Was just in time too. I'm Irish, so I don't mind eating cooked cabbage, but without meat and three meals a day? It was wearing pretty thin, I'll tell you, Gage. So, all he's pulled is the fake puke and whoopee cushions?"

"No. He caused a meal to get ruined because he loosened the tops on the salt and pepper. Cap came down on him for that. He greased the handles to all of our lockers too."

"Sounds like Davis alright. I did try to warn you."

"Yeah, you did. Any way to stop this guy?"

"Yep. Fight fire with fire."

"Huh?

"He can dish it, but he can't take it, Johnny-boy. Use anything you like from my locker or, if you really want to get his goat? Recycle his own gags on him. I still owe that guy a few. Hmm - actually? Come to think of it, you'd better steer clear of my locker. I'd be willing to bet he's got it booby trapped and waiting on me. He still thinks I finked him out to the Captain."

"Why didn't you? Guy must've cost you a small fortune."

Chet closed his eyes. Just talking had worn him out.

"I was a boot. Who listens to a boot? You didn't know my first Captain. Guy's retired now - he -"

For a moment, Chet looked like he was going to say something else. Instead, he just sighed softly.

"I'm really tired, Gage. You think they'll let me sleep now?"

Dixie had been listening from the doorway and spoke softly.

"Just a little longer. We'll get you up to a room soon now. Think you could eat something?"

A frown formed, but Chet kept his eyes shut.

"You know, first couple of days, all I could think about was getting something - anything - to eat. Now? It's weird, but I don't feel hungry."

Dr. Early came up next to Dixie in time to hear the last.

"That happens. We'll take it slow and get your body back to its regular routine a little at a time. Ready to get up to a room?"

"If that means sleep? More than ready. Roy? You said -"

"That I would check on him and I did. We're just waiting for his x-rays, but Kel doesn't think he has a fracture."

Johnny found himself giving Chet's arm a reassuring squeeze when he visibly relaxed at the news on Roy. The still dehydrated feeling of Chet's skin had a frown starting when Dixie's voice distracted him.

"Chet? I know you said something about him being madder at Roy. Did he say what that was about?"

"He hasn't been able to find another West Coast job. Says a paramedic talked about him to other stations and now he's blackballed. He's convinced that the paramedic was Roy. I told him that didn't sound like anything Roy would do."

From where his hand was still touching Chet's arm, Johnny felt the shudder that passed through as Chet spoke again.

"Pretty sure that was when he broke my nose."


	9. Chapter 9

**Part IX**

There really wasn't any question about putting Roy and Chet into the same room to recover. Both men settled a lot once they actually got a look at the other. Marco, Mike and Cap had all been waiting for when they were settled and the whole crew was together for the next hour before Joanne and Mrs. Kelly arrived. Dixie had waited until the sheriff's department took Poole out of the building before calling the families. If Poole didn't already know what they looked like, Dixie wasn't about to show him.

It was decided that telling the women over the phone what had happened wasn't a good idea and that it was equally a bad idea to let them see the men without prior warning, so Dixie was waiting for them and borrowed Kel's office to have a talk. Between them, they ran the gambit of emotions. Mrs. Kelly felt both guilty and furious that she had been so close at the start of her son's ordeal and hadn't known anything was wrong. Joanne was spooked that Roy had been attacked by a former firefighter. It shook her feelings of stability that one of the ones that she generally trusted to watch her husband's back had been the one that needed to be watched out for.

Dixie kept them together and talking until they both felt under control. She gave them warnings about some of the problems their respective guys were dealing with and then escorted them to the room.

In the first bed, Roy seemed currently asleep with Johnny hovering nearby. He really didn't know what they could have known to do differently to have prevented what had happened, but he still felt that there should have been something.

In the second bed, Chet's hands were still swollen from the lengthy amount of time his wrists had been tied, so Marco was in process of feeding pudding to his friend. It was the actual sight of someone having to feed her grown son as if he was an infant that really drove the reality home to Chet's mother. She managed to keep her emotions in check though - right up to the moment Chet saw her and started apologizing as if he'd avoided her on purpose.

She didn't seem to know where to put her hand, so she swiped away the few tears that had escaped before she ended up raking it through her slightly greying dark red curls.

"Chester B. Kelly - don't you go taking the blame for what was done to you. Oh no - not your nose again? I've never met another with so much trouble with their nose."

As Joanne reached the side of Roy's bed, he startled awake, breathing hard. Johnny immediately took hold of Roy's left hand and started talking to him. It took a minute before recognition of where he was slowly began to come to him. And with that came realization that Joanne was there. Not letting go of Johnny, Roy reached out for her with his right hand and gathered her close when she came near enough.

As they got ready to leave the patients to the care of Joanne and Mrs. Kelly, Johnny pulled his other three crewmates to the side and filled them in on what he'd learned from Chet about Sam Davis. Marco was particularly annoyed about the level of what he considered flat-out bullying that had been done to his friend. Hank raised his hands.

"Not saying that anything will happen or that I want to know about it, but anything that Davis has done at our station is fair game in return. See you first thing in the morning, fellows."

Even Mike had an uncharacteristically sly grin on his face as he put his head together with Marco and Johnny.

The beginning of the next shift found Johnny's temporary partner to be Craig Brice - who in turn found himself on the receiving end of a 'joy' buzzer when Sam Davis introduced himself to the rather serious looking paramedic. Brice didn't even comment on it - just went on his way as if absolutely nothing had happened.

Brice ignoring Davis seemed to send the man into a bad gag frenzy. Brice accepted 'trick' gum that was super hot without seeming to notice the difference as he chewed it. He took a dustpan and broom and swept up the fake vomit as it coming across it was an everyday occurrence and didn't react to a whoopee cushion any more than he would have if he'd been deaf.

The way that Brice had Davis' full attention gave the other three ample opportunity to rig their own surprises. After going through fake vomit under his pillow, whoopee cushions on his mattress and a greased locker, Davis had a meeting with Captain Stanley and 'regretfully' informed him that he wouldn't be able to take any more over-time at Station 51. Hank thanked him for filling in for as long as he had and was able to find another lineman to fill in without difficulty.

The next shift was much quieter and when they were all seated with coffee, Brice asked to be filled in on what had been going on. He knew DeSoto and Kelly were in the hospital, but didn't know why. As the details came out, Brice just shook his head in dismay.

"I know that the man wasn't the most rational I've ever seen, but - no offense - why did he just go after DeSoto and Kelly instead of all of you?"

"For some reason, he didn't like Chet from the start. As for Roy? Poole was blaming him for not being able to find a job in another fire department. Said he'd heard that a paramedic had been talking about what happened here and decided it was Roy that did the talking."

Johnny hadn't been looking directly at Brice while answering, but he turned when he heard Marco speak.

"Hey, Craig - you alright there?"

The reason for Marco's concern was immediately apparent. Brice had gone pale as a sheet. Mike grabbed a glass of water and offered it. Brice took it and drank a couple of gulps before speaking.

"I - think that was me. Remember that paramedic conference in San Francisco that you and DeSoto couldn't go to, Gage? I talked about that fire incident - where he'd ordered DeSoto and Kelly to stay in the building."

Hank had come out of his office when he'd seen Mike run over for the water.

"Brice - what happened with Poole? Don't start thinking that any of it is your fault. The man was a walking time-bomb. If that hadn't set him off, something else would have."

"Yeah, man. I mean, it's not like you would have exaggerated or lied about what the guy did. I'm sure word was getting around before that."

Nodding slightly, Brice took a deep breath.

"You're right about that, Gage. In fact, someone asking me if I'd really seen Captain Poole suspend all of you is why I was talking about it to start with."

"See? They already knew. They just wanted to hear some first hand details."

Deciding it was a good time to change the subject, Mike cut in.

"Mind if I ask you something, Brice? How were you able to ignore Davis the way you did?"

"That stuff? That was nothing. I've been a magnet for guys like him since I was in junior high. I learned a long time ago that totally ignoring that stuff means they eventually get bored and go bother someone else."

Roy was able to come back when the next rotation started and the doctors estimated that Chet would return two rotations after that. In between, the other five members of A-Shift and some of their family members all descended on Mrs. Kelly's house where Chet was staying to finish out his recovery.

Chet's expression was an odd mix of shocked, embarrassed and pleased when he found out the others had come to do the painting work that he'd originally been supposed to do at his mother's house. With some working inside and the rest working outside, everything was accomplished in one very long day. Captain Stanley drove Chet and his mom to Chet's place so that they could sleep there overnight and be away from the paint fumes.

Mrs. Kelly waved as Captain Stanley left, then went over to settle Chet down. He was getting more strength back every day, but this long day with his crewmates around him had worn him out.

"That's a very good group that you work with now, Chester."

"You're right, Mom. They're the best."

As he started to doze off, Chet mused that there were things that remained to be dealt with. Poole's trial, for one, was bound to be an ordeal for both Roy and himself. Still, with the support of the rest of their crew, he knew they'd be able to handle it. The important thing was that both of them were going back to the jobs they loved.

He remembered Sam Davis and snuggled deeper under his blankets. Since Gage had had to put up with that guy, he supposed the Phantom could take an extended vacation?

__Naw_._

With a soft chuckle, Chet drifted off to sleep.


End file.
